Just Like That
by Quil Explodes
Summary: A series of first kisses. A few different scenarios. For Megsy42's First Kiss Challenge in the HPFFCF. Remus/Sirius. Rated T in case.
1. First and Last

Love wasn't supposed to hurt this much.

Love was Lily Evans and fiery green eyes, love was James blathering on and on and on, love was curses and hexes but finally kisses.

But for Sirius Black, love was agony.

--

Love was teenagers fumbling in broom cupboards, casting silencing charms on bed hangings.

Love was lips and hair and teeth, love was dreams and wishes and hopes.

Love was James beaming, Lily blushing.

Love was Remus's wide, open eyes, half-covered with hair, his shy, happy smile, hand in hand with a girl.

--

Sometimes, Sirius felt that it wasn't love, it was punishment. Punishment for being born a Black, punishment for belonging to such a family and punishment for deserting it.

Sometimes it was more guilt than love. Sometimes it was nothing, and it scared him.

--

For Sirius, love was not a pleasant tingle, but a punch in the gut. Every time it was the same, not new but not dulled, not old and not numbed.

--

Lily just walked up, walked in. She waved hi, cheerfully, as if she hadn't spent the last six years causing his best mate constant heartache.

She walked in as if he had not a care in the world.

She walked in as if he was as happy as she was.

She tumbled into James's bed and forgot the silencing spell and it was nothing to Sirius.

--

Remus hardly ever brought _her_ up to the dorm, but when he did, he never forgot the spell.

Sirius could be thankful, but it didn't feel through the dull, hot ache behind his ribcage, his stomach clenching painfully.

He thought maybe it was worse, in a way, that he couldn't hear them, because then he didn't know what was happening and his imagination was sometimes so much worse than reality.

--

But then he forgot it, that one time, that one night when James and Lily were in the Room of Requirement and Peter was asleep on top of his Potions essay and Remus walked in and _just like that_ closed Peter's ink bottle and _just like that_ went back to her, their lips meeting in a frenzy, and Sirius _just like that_ felt his heart break a little more at the same time as he fell just a little bit more in love because only Remus could be so _Remus_ and so _not_ _Remus_ at the same time, two seconds apart.

So Sirius stuffed his pillow over his head and curled up towards the wall. He glared at his motorcycle and his Muggle girl posters and saw nothing, felt nothing, except a disturbing amount of misery.

--

Sirius let himself cry, and apart from _why_ he was crying, the crying itself made him cry even more and the fact that the crying made him cry more made him cry more and it just went on and on like that until he felt insane and was drowning in his own tears.

Sirius drowned in agony and self-pity and his own patheticness. Sirius drowned in water and in love, in tears and in salt and in blood. He drowned in his frantically beating heart, in his wishes for, for, _for_...

--

Sirius Black never ceased to be surprised at his heart's capacity for a certain werewolf with the name of Remus Lupin.

He let his cool grey eyes take in the scene from the common room window. He saw them together, he saw them apart. He saw them meld into one but still he looked, and still he saw.

They kissed and drew apart. He could almost make out the expressions on their faces, but he already knew Remus's, knew it by heart, almost literally. He knew the slight eagerness masked by calmness. He could see the overwhelming love and even more overwhelming paranoia. He knew the fear and the loneliness, the happiness and the hope, the innocence and naive hope.

Remus reached out and touched her face. Sirius could feel it on his own skin, almost as if he was there with him.

Remus stood. He staggered slightly, away from the girl who scrambled up, who reached out hesitantly.

He flinched away from her touch.

Sirius knew the expression on Remus's face because he felt it every day in himself.

The girl walked away, looking back, speeding up, head bowed. Sirius thought he saw tears.

He saw Remus fold back to the ground, always graceful, but with movements drugged with heartbreak.

--

The next time he saw him was at breakfast. Remus came to breakfast, with dark circles under his eyes and red rims, but acting normal, if a bit detached.

Sirius came to breakfast because that's what he always did. He came to breakfast because really, this morning was not like any other.

If he didn't think of Remus. Which had never really happened, so he didn't know why he would start now.

Sirius stared, because he'd never really thought anything could be worse than before, but seeing him feeling exactly like Sirius himself was just another blow, another weight, another layer.

When they both thought no one was looking, Sirius stared at Remus and Remus let his eyes close momentarily, let his breath out slowly or quickly, let his fists clench and his eyes flash and grow dull.

--

Sirius continued to be surprised.

He was surprised when he saw Remus's golden-auburn eyes hovering over him at half past one in the morning, a week later.

He was surprised when he crawled into his bed. Sirius scrambled up so he was leaning against the wall.

Sirius's heart jumped up the his throat as Remus brought his knees up to his chin, leaned closer to Sirius.

He wrapped his arms around the werewolf tightly, dangerously, but who was Sirius Black if not one to take risks?

He buried his face in Remus's hair, inhaled his scent, delicious and appealing, comforting, but scary.

Remus wasn't thinking about how Sirius's nose skimmed his ear, or how his heart was beating, beating, beating almost in one solid fast sound.

Remus wasn't thinking about whose arms were around him.

He wasn't thinking about anything but her.

--

Sirius was ready for pain.

He was ready for gut-wrenching agony.

He was ready for it.

But it didn't come. If it had, it wouldn't have been surprising, and it wouldn't have been Remus.

Instead, he felt again like he was drowning, but this time in love. Remus twisted into him and let him hold him and tried to stop his shoulders from shaking, tried to stop tears from leaking out of his eyes. And as he did this, Sirius felt an unbelievable tenderness, softness, almost like chocolate mousse in consistency.

Amid Remus's whispered _God Sirius what did I do wrong_ and _I thought, I thought, she said, she...I love her, Pads, I love her more than anything, _and_ What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?_ Sirius just said, _I know, I know, I know_, and stroked the gold-brown-coppery hair under his fingers.

--

"Is this my fault, Pads?"

Quiet and soft, golden and worried. Almost as if he'd done something.

"No, Moony." Sirius smiled weakly. "Of course not."

"Then..."

"I don't know."

"Merlin. She said she didn't care. She said she loved me. She said..."

Sirius was silent.

"She said she didn't want to live with a werewolf."

Sirius wanted to do nothing more at that moment than to pull away and tell Remus that he would want nothing more than to live with a werewolf.

"Remus."

"She said it was too hard. She said she couldn't handle it. She said she didn't love me enough."

_I love you more than enough. I love you enough to hold you and not say a word. I love you enough to do this. I love you _so much_._

"Sirius."

Sirius wrapped his hands around Remus's shoulders and wondered if it was _that_ unhealthy to wish to be a certain girl _so_ _badly_.

"I know, Moony, I know," he whispered. "Gods, I know."

--

--

Eighteen years later, grey eyes meet brown and Sirius's lips move and he's saying something, telling him something, and Remus is stepping back.

"What? No." His eyes are wide and light and Sirius feels like he can drown in them. He steps back, his eyes flickering from Buckbeak crouched in the corner to Sirius standing before him, as if contemplating which is worse.

"I'm sorry." Sirius's voice is a whisper.

"But. Why?"

Sirius glares at him.

"I mean. I mean, why now?"

"Now?" Sirius laughs, and Remus looks, not scared, not angry, but incredibly confused. "No, Moony, not now. Forever." He tries not to look at him, tries to stare at the ground instead of his hypnotizing eyes.

"What?"

"Moony." He chuckles, low and humorless.

"Sirius, stop." His fists clench, then unclench. His eyes narrow.

"Forever, Moony. Fifth year? I dunno. Fifth year's forever. Since...since Snape, I guess. I never really...guess I never thought. Except about you, really. You would have been proud, if it had been about anyone else. Well, 'cause then I would've told you, I s'pose, if it had been anyone else. So, yeah. Fifth year. January? I dunno. Maybe before. Maybe fourth? Annabelle, maybe, 'cause of her, you remember her? When I walked in on you. Snogging. Yeah. I don't know, Moony. Probably sometime in there. It could have been in Potions, or Transfiguration. It could have been at Hogsmeade. It could have been at night. I dunno."

Sirius is rambling and Remus is breathing, all wide eyes and _no, no, no_.

--

"No."

Sirius nods. "But really, Moony, I'm only telling you this because I know I'm dying soon anyway and I wanted you to know. You know. I don't want you to feel guilty or anything, or, or...you know, just for you to know. And, and Tonks is nice, really, a nice girl. I suppose I should be happy you're ending up with my...my...my cousin or...or whatever she is, to me. You know. And I really never wanted you to feel guilty, I was guilty enough for the both of us, you don't need that even if I _hadn't_ been, and I'm glad you got the Wolfsbane because James and...and Peter and...I don't want to leave you, you know, to...to be alone, on full moons. But I have to admit it was awfully boring to lie on the carpet all night, or would have been, if you hadn't been there, because you're still you and I'm still me and I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

Throughout this whole speech, or ramble, or mind-spew, or whatever it was, Sirius steps forwards, Remus doesn't move. His eyes hold inconceivable amounts of thought.

Sirius's mind spins.

"You're dying soon?" Is all Remus can say, his eyes ice and his eyes fire at the same time, and understanding is lurking but not showing, being frustrating denial.

Sirius just shrugs. "I can't stay here long, you know that, Moony. My mother is lurking around every corner, Kreacher is a walking reminder. I can't live here."

"What are you going to do?" Remus whispers.

"I'm going to help Harry," Sirius responds, with so much confidence and a smile, so that Remus felt almost as if they were seventeen again, with less to worry about and more ability to hide. "I'm going to help Harry and you're going to be the last thing I think about. Hopefully the last thing I'll see, but I'll understand if that doesn't work out."

He grins an easy, friendly grin.

Remus is speechless. "But."

"What?"

"Aren't you. I. Sirius."

"Yes?"

"I--sorry."

It's the best he can manage in this state of confusion and surprise, and it's so like Remus that Sirius's smile falters and is replaced by endless grey gorges.

Remus is thinking.

Remus is always thinking.

"Oh."

--

"I was just wondering," Sirius begins slowly.

"Yes?" Remus mumbles, distracted. But then his eyes snap up and despite what Sirius said he has the guilty, hunted look in his eyes. The look of completely unknowingly causing his very best friend endless pain. The looks of completely hating himself at that moment.

"I was just wondering," Sirius says again, and he suddenly feels like a teenager, regrets that he didn't do this when he was young and handsome and capable.

"If."

"If?"

"If maybe before, you know, before this battle we're going to have, before I--not to sound dramatic of anything--but, before I die--if I could maybe--if you could maybe, you know."

"What?"

"You know."

Remus took a breath. "No, no I don't."

"I know I'm no Tonks. Or, for that matter, a...you know. Woman. But. Just. Once?"

Remus sighs, smiles. "But you're Sirius."

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course."

--

Before Tonks can find him again.

Before Mad-Eye can hurry them all out of the house.

Before Dumbledore can confuse them all with cryptic words and twinkling eyes.

Before Remus realizes what's just happened, Sirius strides forward and in two steps is close enough. He leans forward, his hands run through Remus's soft brown-grey hair. Their lips meet, and Sirius thinks it's probably the best feeling in the world.

--

His lips are incredibly soft, so soft Sirius feels like he's sinking.

He tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of Remus's neck.

He knows he's taking advantage of the endless generosity that is Remus Lupin, but he can't help himself thinking that maybe he deserves this tiny piece of heaven delivered in the middle of hell.

Remus is shaking, and his mouth parts, whether on purpose or not, Sirius doesn't know.

It takes everything he has to keep his hands in his hair.

It takes everything he has to stay where he is.

It takes everything he has not to scream.

--

It's worse, after, with the _knowing_ but not _having_, knowing exactly what he's missing, knowing and feeling and wanting, _so_ _much_. But there's not much longer. He's distracted by Harry, helping Harry, but he still feels Remus's presence at his side, one last time of adventuring together.

It's worse, with the endless hope and boundless imagination that Sirius can never really rid himself of. It's worse, now that he has a taste for it, a taste for what he'd wanted for so long.

--

Sirius tears his eyes away from his cousin, because he'd kill himself (if he wasn't already dying) if the last thing he sees is Bellatrix.

His eyes meet with Remus's wide brown ones, wide with disbelief and _no, no, no,_ and he lets himself fall back into the curtain with a smile.


	2. Astronomy Tower

Sirius Black is innocent.

Sirius Black is eleven and seventeen. He is wide-eyed and trusting, terrified and on edge.

"Moony," he whispers.

Remus flips over, his book falling through his fingers, landing on his bed. Remus loses his place, Sirius thinks, his brow furrowing.

Because Remus never loses his place.

"Sirius."

Sirius stares at him, because he simply can't think of what else to do. Remus isn't a girl, and he can't just grab him and shove him into a broom cupboard and snog him senseless.

Remus is much more difficult than a girl.

"Come on?" He says it like a question, not like how Sirius Black says things at all.

Remus looks at him questioningly. "Where?"

"I dunno. Kitchens?"

"We just had dinner." His eyebrows almost come together in the middle, but then he swings his legs off his bed, pushes Sirius off with a hand on his back and a nudge. "But okay."

Sirius smiles widely and Remus looks even more confused, so Sirius slings an arm over his shoulder and acts like Sirius, pulling him close and ruffling his hair affectionately.

_Almost_ like Sirius.

"So, what's with this visit to the elves? Though I don't doubt they have any problem with it, as besotted as they are with you." Remus's eyes twinkle merrily, his fingers lingering maybe just a _little_ too long on Sirius's shoulder as they climb down the stairs.

"Just fancied some chocolate...something. Thought I'd ask you, because, well, James and Pete aren't you--you like chocolate," he finished, quite lamely, sentences melding and subjects and predicates blurring.

He's been thinking of Remus too much. He's staring to think of _grammar_.

That, of all things that have happened to him in the past Merlin-knows how long but only realized for about two days, is enough to scare him.

"Oh. Yes. I do." Remus doesn't mention the lapse of Sirius's sentences and Sirius has the strange thought that maybe they are turning into each other.

Somehow, Sirius doesn't like the idea. He likes _Remus_, with his coppery hair and raised eyebrows. He likes how he corrects spelling and commas in his essays, twirling his quil between his long thin fingers, biting his lips thoughtfully. He _likes_ how he has an unhealthy obsession with anything chocolate.

The last thing he wants is for Remus to turn into _him_.

"Sirius? _Padfoot_!" Remus is grabbing his wrist, effectively stopping his walking and thinking.

"Huh? What?"

"Where _are_ you? Or rather, where are you going? I thought..." He trails off, his mouth open, and it's all Sirius can do to tear his eyes away and look instead into pools of gold.

"Kitchens," Sirius says, and realizes a second later that he's taken the turn for the Astronomy Tower, and the staircase has disappeared. He doesn't know whether it's instinct or habit, want or need. Most likely, it's everything.

"Um." His eyes fly over Remus's face, glad when all he sees is a slightly bemused expression, confused but humored. "Well. We could wait. Or we could find a different way. Or we could just--"

"Let's just."

Sirius grins and continues up more stairs, fast so they don't move again on them. Remus is half a step behind. Soon they are flat-out running, almost tripping over the trick-stairs but catching each other just soon enough.

They come out into the cool night air panting and sweating. Sirius stumbles over a lump in the stone flooring, falling against Remus and pushing him to the cold stone wall.

They're leaning against it, almost too close for two male best mates, arms and hips touching. Sirius's grin fades slightly.

It's unspoken until Sirius says it. "You know people come here to snog, right?"

Remus smiles, and Sirius can't be sure if he's blushing in the almost-dark. "Yes."

Sirius pushes himself off the wall and across from Remus. His fingers trace his cheekbone, down to his jaw, almost not touching his lips. He can feel warm air pushing past his fingers mixing with the cold night breeze, can feel Remus's lips trembling, or maybe it's his own fingers?

He decides he doesn't care, and steps a step closer.

"We could give it a try. You know, just so we're not breaking tradition." Sirius isn't smiling but his eyes are bright.

Remus blinks.

"We could. Purely for tradition's sake."

"And for the record."

"And for the record, Prefects do this too."

"Of course." And Sirius leans forward, his lips brushing Remus's too softly. Remus's fingers skim across the back of his head, up and down his spine. He shivers.

"Sirius."

"Yes?" His takes in as much of this as he can. He takes in Remus's eyes, soft and burning, the feeling of his fingers on his back, higher and lower and then knotting in his hair. Remus, _just like that_, makes his legs turn to jelly, his heart pound, his head buzz with pure want.

"If this is how you snog your girls I really can't think of why they stay with you at all."

"But you're not a girl."

"Nice of you to notice."

"But."

"But people come here to snog. Not kiss."

"Snog and kiss."

"Well. Same thing, really."

"No."

"We could try the other one."

"Yes. We could."

And then Sirius is kissing him hard and fast, with lips and teeth and hot breath, and Remus is kissing him back, with lips and tongues and his fingers running across his back and down his sides, landing on his hips. Sirius pushes Remus against the cold wall, lips trailing down the side of his face, finally settling on his lips, prying them apart gently with his teeth and tongue, teeth clashing, tongues touching in a way that would have been gross if it hadn't been _Remus_.

They break apart, but they hardly separate.

"I think," Remus says breathlessly, "that was quite a bit better."

"I think I agree," Sirius responds just as breathlessly, and they meet again with teenage lust and sweaty hands and nervousness and want.


	3. It's Only the Firelight

Remus Lupin slams his book down on the library table irritably, with more force than strictly necessary. His face is a mask of annoyance, his mouth twisted in a scowl and his eyes darker than normal. He runs his fingers through his hair, dissolving the last of his patience and stands up, pushing his chair back abruptly.

The group of fifth year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors at the nearby table stop talking and stare at him with wide eyes. One starts giggling.

Remus _hates_ giggling. He figures it must be the single most annoying thing girls do. That's why he likes Lily. She doesn't _giggle_. She laughs like a normal person.

He supposes some of it has to do with the fact that the full moon is only the next day, and Sirius _might_ just have gotten himself detention, and the wolf is never happy without Padfoot.

Thus, a very irritated Remus Lupin.

But now he's thinking of Sirius. The other reason he feels like committing murder, and not even as a wolf.

Well, not _Sirius_, really. The effect Sirius has on girls, to be exact.

"You've seen him recently?"

"_Yes_."

"Well?"

"_Well_ what?"

"You fancy him. Ask him out."

"What? No!"

"You can't wait for him to."

"I've heard he never asks _anyone_ out. Just says yes to some people who ask him. Long as they're not horrible."

"And if he's already with someone?"

"That's what you've got to find out."

"How?"

"Go ask _him_."

"Who?"

"His friend."

"_Who?_"

"Remus Lupin."

"No way!"

"You just don't want me to because--"

"Shut up! He can hear us!"

"I wonder if I _can_ ask him about Sirius..."

And all of that along with giggling and pointing and blushing and _more_ giggling.

Remus has gotten exactly one sentence of his Potions essay done. It's due on Monday, and he won't be able to focus later or do it afterwards. This close to the full moon all he can do is lie on the sofa in the common room and listen to James talk about Lily. Without biting his head off.

He magics his books and papers into a neat pile and sweeps them up, stalking out of the library and hoping the girls won't continue and bother anyone else in there. Or worse, try to follow him and ask him about the status of Sirius' romantic life.

He doesn't really know why it bothers him much. It might be how Sirius just doesn't care. It might be anything at all.

He doesn't know why with James, it just makes him roll his eyes and feel sorry for Lily.

He has no idea. He has no idea and he does not particularly want to find out.

He just wants to stop it.

--

"Sirius!"

"Moony!" Sirius bounds off his bed in a manner too much like Padfoot. "You okay?"

"No, I am most certainly not okay."

"What ever is the matter?" Sirius looks ridiculously concerned, and slings an arm around Remus' shoulders. The almost-full moonlight shines through the window onto his skin, making it prickle uncomfortably.

"Can we go down there?" He asks, pointing towards the common room.

Sirius' eyes flicker towards the window. " 'Course."

"Your _girls_," Remus hisses as they climb down the staircase.

"_My_ girls?" Sirius laughs, but a flicker of unease passes across his face. "What're they doing now?"

"Making it impossible for me to concentrate on my Potions essay. Making it impossible for me to _think_. Making it impossible for me to not want to _commit__murder_."

"Whoa now, Moony, are me and James finally influencing you?" Sirius teases. "You are the big bad wolf after all, eh?"

"Oh, shut up, will you? And fix it, _please_?"

"How can I fix it? It's not my fault the female population finds me entirely irresistible." Sirius throws him a crooked grin and something in Remus' stomach falls to his feet.

"Sirius! You could do something! I don't know! Make yourself hideously ugly? Dye your hair bright pink? But no, they'll probably find _that_ just _adorable_!" Remus shuffles his feet and looks down to hide the embarrassment that has crept up on him so slowly he isn't sure if he's not imagining it.

"Sorry, no can do."

"Or go out with one of them so the rest would shut up?"

"Would that shut them up?" Sirius avoids the direct question, and turns, spotting James climbing through the portrait hole, Peter following him. "Prongs! Care for a game of chess?"

"Exploding Snap."

"No. You've exploded all my decks and last week it took all week for my eyebrows to grow back. Can't we just play a nice, civilized game of chess?"

Remus snorts. Chess games between James and Sirius rarely end up in anything resembling _civilized_.

"Fine." James glances around the room, no doubt looking for Lily. His face falls slightly when he sees that she's not there, but he gets his chess board and throws a pawn at Sirius to get his attention.

Remus throws himself onto the nearest sofa, spreading his long legs across its entirety, for once not caring about any of the first and second years who might need a place to sit. He feels Sirius' eyes on him but he just shuts his eyes and pretends to be asleep.

"What's wrong with Moony?" He hears James whisper to Sirius, but with his heightened senses he can hear perfectly.

"His time of month, you know." Remus can hear the suggestion in his voice and almost see his eyebrows waggling over mischievous grey eyes. Without opening his eyes, Remus flings a pillow at Sirius. Judging from his muffled shout, it hit.

"Did you see Evans today?" James asks, not at all ruffled by the pillow that had just skimmed past his face and hit his best friend smack in the middle of his. "She looked absolutely _splendid_."

"You sound like someone out of a nineteenth century romance novel," Peter tells him.

"Her hair is like a fiery river, her countenance a beautiful--beautiful--um--"

"I think Shakespeare might have just died." Sirius snickers.

"He's already dead. And it's your turn."

--

The fire is dying down, but most of the older students are still sprawled across couches and armchairs and table and the floor, taking advantage of the Friday night, either playing exploding snap, talking, snogging, or drinking.

Sirius and James had long since finished their game, and Sirius is spread out in front of the fire, idly poking the black queen with his wand and making it do all sorts of strange things. Remus finds himself running his eyes across his long frame, his eyes focusing at certain points, blurring at others, taking in his fingers holding his wand, his face thrown into shadows from the firelight, his back, lean and strong under the thin cotton of his shirt. He finds himself thinking that just like that, Sirius could be--

So easy, so easily difficult, and so wrong.

"Look," James says softly, his eyes glazing over slightly as he watches Lily talking animatedly with her friends across the room, the firelight playing across her face and hair. Remus starts at his voice, turning his gaze to the ceiling, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.

Sirius makes a noncommittal noise is his throat, jabbing the queen particularly roughly and giving it two heads.

"I think I'm going to go talk to her."

Sirius looks up. "Good luck with that," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Remus, who is still on the couch trying not to tell off some fourth years who were eying Sirius in a way that he did not like at all.

James stands, cuffing Peter on the back of his head as he makes his way towards Lily. Sirius mutters something under his breath and the queen grows in size, turns green, grows a branch or two, and trots off into the corner of the room.

"Nice decoration," Remus tells him. "I'm sure McGonagall will appreciate it."

Sirius gives him an odd look, but his eyes brighten. "And Prongs. I wonder how long it'll take him to find his queen."

"I say a week," Remus offers, quite enjoying the way Sirius looks at him in surprise, then delight.

"Moony, gambling? What's gotten into you today?"

Remus _hmphs_, shrugging. "Hardly _gambling_. You going to--?"

"Two days."

"You overestimate our dear Prongs," Remus tells him.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

"With no help."

"What do you take me for?"

Remus pretends to think. "I really couldn't say," he says slowly, his lips curling up into a small smile.

"Oh, shut up." Sirius leaps up and onto Remus's legs with the energy of a large, human-shaped puppy. It makes Remus slightly nauseous.

Sirius swings his legs across Remus' and he moves aside a bit to make room for Sirius to lie next to him. They lie in silence for a few minutes, watching James' progress with Lily--which is better than usual. He is gone an awfully long time, for Lily, and she was only yelling at him. Her wand wasn't even out.

"Sirius?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't you want to go out with someone? To shut up everyone and give me a bit of peace of mind?"

"And time to work on your essay. Which, by the way, you spend way too much time on already."

"And that."

Sirius hesitates. "Look, James' hair is green. It matches her eyes quite well. They _are_ a wonderful couple, aren't they?"

"Stop changing the subject." Remus frowns.

Sirius sighs. "Do you really want me to?" He asks, looking pointedly at Remus, and he knows that the 'subject' is not what Sirius is talking about.

It is aggravating how Sirius seems to know what he's thinking, and that he's perfectly right.

"No." He figures there's no use to lie, and Sirius looks happy anyways. He's not sure why, but the idea of Sirius with one of those girls makes him want to throw something.

"Well good. So I won't. I suggest a silencing charm. That usually shuts them up."

Remus grins. "But why don't you want to?"

Sirius looks a bit...lost, would be the closest to it, but Remus can't really tell what he's feeling. It's something strange, something warm and drowning and it scares him.

"The truth?"

Remus nods and faintly hears James saying something along the lines of, "I think of new ways to ask you out every day and you think of new ways to hex me. I think we work quite well together, actually. I just don't know why you continue denying it."

Sirius sits up, tugging Remus up to his level. He tangles his fingers in Remus' hair, so tightly it almost hurts. His heart thumps loudly.

"Promise me you won't get mad?"

"Promise."

Sirius sends a fleeting glance towards James, who is gesturing at Lily and pointing at his hair madly. He gives Remus a look that says _we both know I'm insane so I can't help what I'm doing and don't hate me for it_ and kisses him full on the mouth.

And of course, it's Sirius, and when Sirius Black is kissing you, you tend to kiss him back. No matter that Remus is _Remus_ and full-moon crazy and filled with emotions he is deathly scared of and completely confused by, no matter that they are in full view of most Gryffindors fourth year and up, Remus kisses him back and is even more shocked when Sirius pushes his mouth harder against his and parts his lips, his tongue grazing Remus' bottom lip letting out half a breath against Remus'.

And Remus doesn't think of the fact that Peter is staring at them with his jaw fallen open, his eyes wide with surprise, and that James has stopped trying to get Lily to fix his hair and looks like he is about to burst out laughing any minute, and that Lily is smiling and hits her friend softly when she mutters something that makes even James looks slightly disturbed. He doesn't think about the way Sirius is moving his tongue and lips against his own, other to think that it really feels quite good. He isn't even thinking about exactly how many girls will be ready to kill him by tomorrow.

Sirius lets out a soft sound like a moan, and separates himself reluctantly from Remus.

"That's why," he says, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright grey. "Maybe that'll stop them."

Remus can't really think of anything to say, and just looks at Sirius with a mixture of blurry shock and a bit of _wow that was nice why don't we do that again?_

James saunters over to them, pats Sirius on the head as if he were Padfoot, and looks imploringly at Remus, pointing at his hair. "Can you fix it?"


	4. Just Something Friends Do

To Remus and Sirius, quietly sitting with each other's heads in their laps or hands entwined is nothing special. It is normal friendship behavior--James and Peter just shy away from it.

Sirius just craves affection to prove to himself that he's not evil.

Remus just needs affection to prove that he's human.

It is just a thing that friends do.

--

Everyone is used to it--they get taunted in the corridors by angry Slytherins and prejudiced Ravenclaws, but Lily Evans smiles at them as they wonder what the big deal is.

It _is_ okay for Sirius to wrap his arm around Remus, help him walk, after a particularly bad full moon. It is _perfectly_ _okay_ for Sirius to fall asleep with his head in Remus' lap in the middle of the common room--he's had a hard day pranking Slytherins and battling off Bludgers, after all.

It's just something friends do.

--

It is also, Sirius tells himself,_ just something friends do_, while his stomach jumps and falls almost painfully as Remus runs his fingers through Sirius' hair, and he sighs with contentment.

That is all it is.

It does not mean anything.

Sirius knows this.

--

But when has something as superficial as_ knowing something for a fact_ ever stopped Sirius Black?

--

--

"Mooooony!" Remus winces, then smiles, as a very excited Sirius Black collides with him in the middle of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Remus does not look for James or Peter, does not see Lily over on the other end, talking with Severus Snape.

All he feels and all he knows is Sirius, desperate and clinging, Sirius, with his arms strong and heavy around Remus, Sirius, with his smell of musky rain and wet dog.

He _knows_ that he buries his nose in Sirius' neck, inhaling deeply, but he doesn't care. He _knows_ that one spindly Ravenclaw is looking at them strangely, as if this is not the way two mates, even _best_ mates, hug each other.

But he doesn't care.

He can feel all of Sirius' desperation, his suffocation. He can feel everything he didn't tell James because he didn't want to offend his parents and everything he doesn't tell anyone because he's _Sirius_, and there are some things too Black to tell.

He can feel Bellatrix taunting, Regulus scared. He can feel annoyance change to hatred, hatred morph to violence, violence become Padfoot, and Padfoot run.

--

James is saying something, though, and Remus reluctantly pulls himself out of the very vivid feelings and disentangles himself from Sirius. His cheeks turn a faint pink. Sirius looks slightly annoyed.

"...seen Pete anywhere? And what is Lily doing talking to _him_?" James' voice holds an edge of jealousy and hatred but he contains it. Remus' eyes slide across Sirius', catch brief guilt, and then Sirius is Sirius again, talkative and positively bouncing with excitement.

"Evans can talk to whomever she fancies, Prongsie," Sirius says with a smirk. His eyes meet Remus' again and he rolls his eyes, already guessing James' next, outraged words.

"She doesn't _fancy_ him!"

--

Now in a compartment, with James still fuming about Lily and Snape, and Peter trying to reassure him, Sirius rolls his eyes, again, at Remus. They are lying in such a way that, had they been Lily and James, they would all be either dead (stuck in James' idea of heaven) or frozen from shock, with James being the happiest person alive.

But this is Sirius and Remus, so it doesn't mean anything. It is one friend comforting another from things they cannot handle alone. It is a mutual sort of need.

"Was it bad?" Remus asks quietly, and James and Peter do not look away from their conversation.

Sirius nods quickly and almost presses closer to Remus' hand where it is running through his hair. He wishes he were Padfoot so he could show his affection more easily, but it is too dangerous to transform when anyone can see.

So Sirius pretends that he is Padfoot and leans into Remus' touch, slumping against his shoulder and reveling in the feeling of his fingers running through his hair.

"What'd she do?"

Sirius knows what Remus means and sighs. "She threw an Ancient and Most Noble House of Black goblet at my head."

Remus cannot help smiling at the way Sirius says this, part wry humor and part casual, _too_ casual.

"Well, that'd send anyone packing."

"No, Moony, you don't get what those goblets mean to her. She cares more about the old family heirlooms than her two kids put together. We're like them, only more trouble." Sirius cocks his head slightly to one side. "I suppose it was hard for her to throw it at me. I'm too low for it. I probably dirtied it with my filthy blood-traitor hair."

"I like your hair," Remus says, but his smile fades and his hand wanders until he feels a bump under Sirius' thick, soft hair. "Ouch."

"It's nothing," he waves it off. "Nothing compared to a _crucio_, that is."

Remus feels an almost tangible weight of something incredibly _wrong_ settle in his stomach. Everything in him protests to Sirius hurting, with _crucio_ or with flying goblets, it makes no difference.

"Sirius. I'm sorry," he murmurs, and brings his head down closer to Sirius', with only the thought of _comfort_ in his mind.

"There is not _one_ _bit_ of it that's your fault, Moony," Sirius whispers back, and he looks so _sad_ that Remus half-hugs him, running his hand down his back slowly.

Sirius shivers but leaps away from Remus when James speaks.

"When you two are done snogging, me and Pete would like it if you could focus at the matter at hand," he says with a small, knowing smirk that only James Potter can manage.

And before Remus really registers what he's said, he thinks, _oh, well, James is used to this, he wouldn't be surprised if we actually started snogging, for real. So it's okay, if James is okay with it, obviously, and if we _actually_ started snogging--_

But then it clicks and Remus feels himself flush a bright red and grab the nearest chocolate frog, unwrapping it with fumbling fingers. He feels Sirius' eyes on him and it feels like they burn.

"And what's the matter at hand?" Sirius asks, but he sounds distracted, not himself.

It takes him a few more minutes to shake off his embarrassment (though it isn't as visible as Remus'), and it takes Remus a few more to realize that neither of them denied it.

--

And everything's back to normal once they get to Hogwarts, when Sirius detaches himself from Remus' side to have a _very_ animated conversation with the other Gryffindor beater. They are both gesturing wildly and showing each other new tactics, which result in more than a few second-years hit on the head, and one Lily Evans, which just means that Sirius gets his hair vanished.

"Padfoot, please stop hitting the second-years in the head, or I'm going to have to report you, and this might just be a record for you. Lily...I'll pretend I didn't see that." Remus sighs and gives his wand a lazy flick, restoring Sirius' hair and ignoring his protest of his unfair treatment of him and Lily.

"I figure the second years need more protecting than Sirius Black," he says, giving Sirius a wry grin.

"Thanks, Moony," Sirius says, running his fingers through his hair in relief.

"Anything else, I would've left it. But I'm afraid I like you too much with your hair to even _consider_ leaving you like that."

Sirius grins and ruffles Remus' hair affectionately. Neither of them notice how James is looking at them, a bit confused and a bit smug, or how Lily is looking between them (_very_ smugly) and James (with disbelief).

--

Peter is stuffing bread and chicken in his mouth as if he hasn't had a proper meal in ages. Sirius is eating less than usual. James is trying to get Lily's attention, and she is stubbornly ignoring him.

Remus smiles. This is how things are supposed to be: warm, at Hogwarts, safe.

Except...Sirius is glancing over at the Slytherin table every once in a while, and Remus knows he is looking at a certain black-haired fourth year.

--

Days pass, weeks pass. Things happen--things that no one really _meant_ to happen, but they happen all the same. Sirius and Remus walk so closely together their hands brush and hips and shoulders touch. Lily Evans has taken to glaring at Remus with a significant look on her face and Remus can only imagine what it's about, and if you add Lily's glares and Remus' imagination, you get some terrifying results.

And Potions, one warm Friday, when the Dungeons are hot and the class is restless. James is trying to convince Peter to transform and sneak a dungbomb into Snape's cauldron, and Peter is saying, rather loudly, that _wouldn't a rat with a _dungbomb_ in his mouth scurrying across the floor attract some _attention_? Especially since _I _wouldn't _be_ here?_

Remus is stirring his potion furiously, ignoring Lily's shouts of caution and Snape's curling lip at his cauldron, which is bright pink, instead of violet, and giving off fumes not unlike rotten eggs.

"Love the color," Sirius says lightly, coming up from behind him. He stands _so_ close, and his hand is _almost_ touching the small of his back, so Remus promptly drops his wand in his potion and it explodes, splattering hot pink, thick liquid on everyone within a ten foot radius.

All Remus can feel is Sirius grabbing his wrist and yanking him back, hot, searing liquid, and his head hitting something soft that smells like Sirius soaked in rotten eggs.

--

"I must say, Mr. Lupin," Professor Slughorn says with a very disappointed air about him, "to destroy a potion to that extent must have taken quite an effort."

He is in Slughorn's office, and, by the smell of it, Sirius is there too. Remus looks up from the chair he was sprawled in and confirms his suspicions. He almost asks Sirius what he's doing there, but then he remembers Slughorn.

"Oh. Er...sorry, Professor. I don't know...what I did."

But then Remus' head snaps back to look at Sirius again, and he blinks for a second.

Sirius is looking absurdly happy for someone who had just gotten sprayed with hot, foul-smelling potion, landed on, and is now a resolutely pale pink color.

"It looks better on you," Sirius assures him with a wink.

Slughorn sighs, and Remus looks back at him guiltily. "You two'd better go see Madame Pomfrew. You got the worst of it."

Sirius nods briskly and grabs Remus' wrist again, all but dragging him from his chair and out into the corridor.

"Here's your wand," Sirius says suddenly, and Remus blinks.

"It's pink."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It did fall into your _masterpiece_, Moony."

"Oh. Okay." Remus looks mournfully at his wand--now a completely unmanageable shade of hot pink.

"Classy," Sirius says with a grin that makes Remus even more dizzy.

But he blames it on the potion.

"Didn't anyone else get hit by any?" Remus asks, pocketing his wand slowly. The dizziness intensifies, and he grabs Sirius' fingers tightly.

"Yeah, but Slughorn could cure them. We got the most, though, and your potion had some...odd effects."

"Like what?"

"Well, turning us pink, for one. And you're acting right plastered, you know that?"

Remus flushes, and Sirius laughs, probably at the color of his face, which just makes him flush more. He looks pointedly at Remus' wobbling feet and swerving steps.

"Too bad you don't know what you did. We could use this potion. I'm thinking Snape, breakfast pumpkin juice, eh?"

Remus laughs and is all too acutely aware of their hands, which, had it been anyone else, would be holding on to each other very tightly.

For them, though, it's just Sirius helping Remus not fall flat on his face, and Remus needs emotional support for the feeling now creeping through his body, probably potion-induced.

"Okay, Pads, yeah, maybe I do f--"

"What on earth has happened to you two?"

They are at the doors of the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfrey is looking at them with a mixed expression of humor, worry, and scolding.

"Potions accident," Sirius tells her with a charming grin, and she sighs but lets them both in.

She starts with Remus, tapping him with her wand and muttering spells. It does nothing.

"Why couldn't Professor Slughorn do something?" She mutters irritably. "I don't even know what this potion is."

"It's okay. It'll probably wear off. We can just go back to our dorm, rest, you know," Sirius suggests.

"No you absolutely may not! Especially not you, Remus." she gives him a significant look, and he remembers (as if he could ever forget) that the full moon is only a few days away. He wonders, with dry amusement, if the wolf he changes into will have pink fur. He exchanges a look with Sirius, and he can tell that he's thinking the same thing. He grins.

"Okay. But you can see that we're perfectly fine. Remus is just a little dizzy from falling and knocking himself out, but I'm sure a little chocolate will help with that."

Madame Pomfrey frowns but nods.

So she goes and gets Remus a huge slab of Honeydukes best, and checks them both one more time before shooing them out impatiently.

"I can't believe you," Remus says, shaking his head and speaking in between bites of chocolate. "You manage to get us out of class, out of the Hospital Wing, _and_ get some chocolate out of it."

"Speaking of which, aren't you going to give me any of that?" He gives Remus a grin not unlike the one he had given Pomfrey just a few minutes ago, only with that special hint of something else that Remus sees whenever Sirius smiles at him, and that makes him feel a bit like jelly.

--

Sirius lounges on Remus' bed, across from him, fiddling with a loose thread and watching Remus read.

"I can't believe _you_. I go through all that work to get us _free_, and you _read_. You know, James and Pete are probably _reading_ right now. Or listening to Binns drone."

Remus looks up from his book, and Sirius swims hazily in his vision. "I'm not really reading," he says. "I feel a bit ill."

"You don't look ill. You look drunk." Remus is acutely aware of Sirius' eyes on him, his eyes on his (probably) wide, bloodshot eyes and ruffled hair.

"Well, thank you."

"You are very welcome."

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and then Remus shakes his head. "Well, what do you want to do, then?"

Sirius pretends to think, tapping his fingers on his temple and crossing his legs. "Well...I'm sure we could find something to do."

"Like?"

"We could...talk. Or we could...do other things." Sirius suddenly moves, shifting next to him and throwing one leg over Remus', as if to prevent him from running away.

Remus has the feeling that Sirius has a very specific thing to do, but he's not telling him. So he just waits.

"Let's just talk. How about you tell me...something."

"Like?"

"I dunno. What you had for breakfast." Sirius tilts his head slightly to the left. "Who you fancy." There's a sort of daring in Sirius' eyes that Remus has only connected with pranks.

"Cereal and tea and toast. You were there. No one."

"I don't believe that." Sirius looks almost too...intense. His eyes are blazing and his fingers are gripping the duvet so tight they are pale white.

Remus frowns. "You were there, Padfoot. How can you not believe that?" His heart is thudding suddenly, thudding loud enough, he is sure, for Sirius to hear.

"No. Not what you had for breakfast."

"I told you, no one."

"I don't believe it."

"Well, it's true. Who do _you_ fancy, then?"

Sirius sighs, his eyes dropping back down to the bed and his fingers loosening. "I don't want to lie to you, Moony."

"So don't."

"Well, then do you want me to tell you?"

"If you want to tell me."

"Damn it! Why do you have to make this so bloody _difficult_!"

Remus raises his eyebrows.

"Damn it. Bloody buggering hell, I'm going to tell you, and you're going to know that I warned you."

"Now I'm curious."

"Okay. Wait--I think I'm going to explain it. Maybe you'll understand, then. It's not entirely my fault."

"I wouldn't blame you, Pads. It's not your fault who you like."

Sirius takes these words as if Remus already knows.

"Well...I suppose it started at home. I...my mother was...she was saying that people, people like...him, were...evil. I hated it, hated it more than when she called the Potters blood traitors, more than...almost anything. I couldn't stand it."

Remus does not even blink at the surprising pronoun, and it gives Sirius the tiniest bit of hope. Enough to continue.

"That's why I think she knows. I'm not sure, but...anyways. Anyways, then on the train, when...when James said..." He trails off, and his eyes meet Remus' with slight pleading and burning grey hope.

"James just said that and...and I...I didn't even deny it, I didn't even think, all I could think of was...was...if it were true, it we...were. I couldn't..."

Sirius is still looking at Remus, as if he expects him to say something, but Remus is not thinking of that. He is thinking of the train, and of Sirius' hands, and of James...

"You could blame it on James," Sirius adds, as if he must keep talking. "You could blame it on James, he's the one who--and bloody _Evans_."

"What'd she do?"

"She's just a bloody nuisance, always shoving her perfect nose into everyone's business. Putting thoughts into peoples' heads. I have no doubt that's what got James..."

"Has it ever occurred to you," Remus says with a slight smile, "that we might look just a bit on the non-platonic side of things? The way we act?"

Sirius has such a blank look on his face that Remus has to smile. "How do we act?"

"Sirius. Think about it. We touch, we hug--we talk more, about things that actually matter, than James and Wormtail. Just look at us."

Remus drags his eyes across their bodies, feeling Sirius' eyes following across their entangled legs, touching shoulders.

"We're friends. That's what friends do."

Remus shakes his head. "No, Sirius."

--

And then they're together, _really_ together, with lips pressing together hard, sloppily and messily and not at all practiced or at all how any of the many girls at Hogwarts have imagined Sirius Black to kiss, but Remus suddenly cannot think about anything else, about anything but Sirius' lips on his and his fingers in his hair.

They're together, just like that, _that easy_, with fingers entwined in hair and hot breath and Sirius' heartbeat, a fast _thump-thump-thump_, fast and frantic. Teeth collide and fingers press and move and nothing is like anything they've ever experienced, ever done.

And then Remus pulls away with a slightly dazed expression, slightly dazed and slightly elated, but hidden deep under fear and calm.

--

"Was that something friends do?" Sirius asks, teasing and smiling, with skimming fingers that really are quite distracting.

Remus swallows as Sirius' fingers brush down his chest. "No, Pads."

"Thought so. So can we snog in public, now?"

Remus laughs. "Maybe."

"Only maybe?"

"Maybe in public. Definitely in private."

Sirius smirks and his fingers move lower. "We're in private."

"That we are," Remus agrees, his head buzzing slightly. He still isn't quite sure himself of the effect Sirius has on him.

And then Sirius' lips descend upon his again.


	5. Interference

"Sirius is in love with you," James Potter states on one cold winter evening halfway through sixth year. He doesn't look particularly disturbed, so Remus comes to the conclusion that he came to this conclusion by himself. If Sirius had told him, he would be quite more surprised.

So Remus blinks at James, blinks and thinks blankly.

But in all honesty, Remus does not know what to say, so instead he thinks way too hard about all the things that don't matter--like how does James know, does Peter know, why does James look so happy, and why on _earth_ is his hair lying flat?

But he doesn't ask James any of these questions, because, as James is fiercely protective of any and all Marauders, Remus figures he may hit him (or hex him) if he says the wrong thing.

It's hard, being between two Marauders. Remus doesn't know what James would do, really.

If it were true.

"Did you hear me? Sirius is--"

"Yes, Prongs, I heard you."

But now James is insisting he not only hear, but _listen_, and process, and think, and respond. And to respond with more than an offhand _yeah, okay_, which Remus thinks would be fairly disastrous, he has to think about what he's going to say, and that requires thinking about what James has just said.

"What?"

James frowns. "I thought you heard me."

"Yes, I did, that was my internal dialogue."

"Ah." James hears that and nods knowingly, and it is then that Remus knows _exactly_ why James is not surprised, and because of that, Sirius may have told him after all.

Only a Marauder would nod like that when confronted with a werewolf who talks to himself.

And that is why Remus sometimes can still not believe that they are his friends.

But this is something on a whole new level, something he has never thought about (okay, on occasion) and isn't sure he's quite comfortable with.

"Um. Why do you think that?" Remus carefully phrases the question (either consciously or unconsciously, he's not sure) to make it sound like it could possibly be not true, which Remus hopes, but when he hopes for it not to be true it makes his stomach ache in quite the same way as when Sirius ruffles his hair, or slings his arm around his shoulder, or says _Moony_ in that way that only Sirius does. And that makes him wonder if that's really what he's been feeling, and if this is going to make him realize, and if this is going to make his life hell with that knowledge.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? No, he didn't tell me," James says in response to Remus' mouth opening.

"Then how do you know?"

"I said. It's obvious. Plus, Lily agrees with me."

Remus looks James in the eyes for a moment, while thinking two things. One, this is probably not true, and two, this whole conversation had acquired a certain _been there, done that, no, it's not true_ taste. Mostly because, whenever James talks about Lily, he gets that look on his face (part utter infatuation and part _she is never wrong_, in this case), and whenever James talks about Lily, he's _talking about Lily_, and not talking about anything else.

And that is why Remus is surprised, with an unpleasant jolt, when James moves the subject _away_ from Lily and back to Sirius. Well, Sirius and Remus, to be exact, and he says it like they're already an entity.

Remus' stomach squirms uncomfortably, and he looks away from James' eyes, which are unnervingly knowing.

"What do you mean, _obvious_?" He asks, registering vaguely that he feels a bit numb. Maybe this is a dream, and that's why everything is not how it should be, and James did not just change the subject from Lily to Sirius.

But Remus hardly ever remembers his dreams, and when he does, they are hazy memories and flashes, not vivid conversations like this.

And plus, it _feels_ real. What James is suggesting sounds entirely _too_ plausible for it to be a dream. He hadn't had any hope anyways. He knew it was real to start with, from that first word James said.

Remus sighs. "What does Sirius have to say about this?"

"About him being in love with you or about me telling you?"

"Er...both, I suppose." Every time James says those words, those words _Sirius_ and _love_ and _you_ all together, he gets a strange jolt of _something_ in his stomach, followed by another equally strong jolt of something he had come to recognize as guilt, as _no, _please_, this shouldn't be happening!_

"Well, the first he doesn't really know yet, thus the second he doesn't know...either."

Remus frowns. "He doesn't...know? Prongs..."

"Wait, wait!" James holds up his hands, backing away slightly. "Give me a second, Moony, just give me a second to explain. See, Sirius is a bit slow, and it's annoying me to no end, so (and Lily agrees, she _agrees_ with _me_!) I'm telling you about it in hope that you could do something."

"What could I possibly do?" Remus feels slightly dizzy, maybe a product of trying to fathom James Potter's mind, or maybe a product of trying to fathom the idea of Sirius in love with him. "And you don't even know it's true."

"Yes, I know it's true. I'm his best mate--of _course_ I'd know before him."

"Oh, yes," Remus says weakly. "Of course."

"So," James says, in the voice he uses when plotting pranks, when handing out tasks for said pranks, that complete leader and in-charge sort of voice that Remus still hasn't figured out if it suits him or not. "There's a few plans of action, we can decide. One: you go and snog Sirius and make him come to his senses. Two: you go and tell Sirius you're in love with him, too, and make him come to his senses. Three--"

"Hang on. What makes you think I want to--to snog him, or...that I'm in love with him?"

"I'm _your_ best mate too, Moony."

Remus swallows.

"Three, me and _Lily_ work _together_ to lock you two into a closet together until you both come to your senses, since you're in denial too, apparently. I like that one the best--"

"--only because then you get to work with Lily--"

"Well, of course, what do you expect? Maybe she'll be inspired by all the love in the air..."

And it is then that James Potter's mind fades out into the cloud of thought that is Lily Evans, and Remus rolls his eyes impatiently, still thinking this might all just be an elaborate prank by Messers Prongs and Wormtail. And maybe even Padfoot. Though that thought makes him feel almost unbearably horrible, so he tries not to think about that possibility.

"James," he starts, in the voice he uses when telling first years to stop trying to act like James and Sirius, telling _James and Sirius_ to stop acting like James and Sirius, that Prefect and responsible voice that James has long since figured out doesn't suit Remus at all. "Have you not thought of the option that Sirius doesn't love me and I don't love Sirius, since neither of us seem to have the same opinion as you?" The thudding of Remus' heart tells him he's the one that's wrong, but he ignores it. There's a time for romance, and there's a time for being reasonable.

This, obviously, is a time for being reasonable.

James seems to think otherwise, and he shakes his head happily.

"Thank you, Remus. Because of that, I get to work with _Lily_. And mark my words, she _will_ be inspired when you and Sirius start snogging in a broom closet."

James gives Remus one last, best Marauder-like withering look, and sweeps out of the dormitory on that ominous note.

--

It is then that Remus starts avoiding broom closets like they're cursed.

Which they are.

By James Potter and Lily Evans, suddenly working together, with the oddest goal known to wizard-kind.

So Remus just has two jobs: one, avoid any lurking closets, and two, ignore how his body (and mind, and heart, and...) acts when Sirius is anywhere in the near vicinity.

Not too difficult. Remus has gotten pretty good at lying.

But to Sirius, as he had found out in second year, it is impossible.

--

"Moony? _Moony_, just tell me, okay? Just tell me what's _happening_."

And Sirius sounds so distressed, so _worried_, and Remus remembers how the Sirius that the rest of the school sees is not the real Sirius at all, and the real Sirius is absolutely terrified of being lied to.

So Remus hesitates, and because of that split-second of silence, that split-second of questioning whether or not to just _tell him, already_, he is in a broom closet.

He looks around, then hears Sirius' shout of_ where the bloody hell did he go!_ and pounds his fists on the door.

"Sirius! _Sirius_! Padfoot, I'm in _here_--"

But Remus hears, with his sensitive hearing, that Sirius is walking away, soft footsteps pattering away quickly, voice calling loudly.

"Bloody hell!" He mutters, digging in his pocket for his wand, but drawing his hands out empty-handed. It's not completely dark, with light filtering in through small cracks in the door, and, as he looks around again, he has to thank Lily silently (while cursing her equally as silently), because there are a few cushions on the floor.

So Remus sits down and waits, and hopes that James forgot about the Marauders' Map, and Sirius is smart enough to use it.

--

A while later, a heavy ball of black hair and flailing limbs falls on top of Remus, and there is a brief scuffle. Two minutes later, they are standing on opposite ends of the broom closet (though they are still way too close).

Remus lets his eyes roam across Sirius' body: his flushed cheeks, messy hair, his hand absently rubbing his arm.

"I think, now, you've really got to tell me what's going on," Sirius says, and if Remus didn't know him better, he'd think he was angry. But as it is, Remus sits down again, weighed by guilt, and sighs.

"James thinks we're in love with each other and he locked us in here together to snog and proclaim our love for each other."

Sirius' reaction is not what Remus had expected. He expected laughter--scoffing, his eyes lighting up with mirth, laughing at James--he expected Sirius to laugh and then proceed to perform wandless magic and bash the door down and then go find James.

But Sirius does not do any of those things.

Instead, he blushes (a rare sight) and looks down at his feet, letting his hair fall over his face, letting his red cheeks hide in shadow.

And Remus feels an oncoming sense of dread, of something lifting up and about to fall on him, on Sirius, suffocating them both. His eyes darken with apprehension.

"Um. I. Er...sorry." Sirius lurches somewhat, turning and running his fingers across the door, searching for a weakness.

"There's nothing. No wands, either. We're stuck in here."

"Till what?" There's slight fear in Sirius' voice, and Remus gets the strong suspicion that he wants nothing more than to be away from him.

Remus frowns. "Sirius."

Sirius spins, but the space is so small that he ends up falling almost on top of Remus. He picks himself up hurriedly. "Yes? What? I mean, of course. I. Er."

"Sirius, what's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing, nothing. At all. James is...insane. Yes, that's right. We always knew." He will not meet Remus' eyes.

"Are you okay?" Remus feels completely at a loss, and sits down helplessly, pulling Sirius with him by the hand, but he jerks his hand away.

"Don't do that...things like that. That's what made this...happen. Don't."

Remus gapes. "What? Do _what_?"

"I...nothing. Never mind."

And Sirius commences a ten minute long study of the dark wall in front of him, a scowl on his face and his eyes a stormy grey.

After ten minutes, he drops his head into his arms for another ten minutes.

It is the longest twenty minutes of Remus' life. He is more bored than he is in History of Magic, because at least then James and Sirius are acting like idiots to entertain everyone.

But now, Sirius is acting distinctly un-Sirius-like, and it goes beyond unsettling.

And when Remus is about to do something, _anything_--stand, yell, shout, grab Sirius and shake him, _anything_, Sirius stands up, grabs Remus' hand, (Remus raises an eyebrow) says "Fuck it" to himself and "James was right" to Remus, yanks him forward, and presses their lips together.

--

"I say," Sirius says, "that when Prongs lets us out, we pretend like he was wrong and that just made us hate each other."

Remus pretends not to think about how close that is to the truth. "No. I can't pretend to hate you."

Sirius grins, running his fingers through Remus' hair and kissing him quickly on the lips. "I will not give him the satisfaction of being right. I hate it enough when it's just _us_ that know it, that he was right. Think you can keep your hands off me for long enough?" His lips quirk as he stares pointedly at Remus' hand, tracing a path down his chest.

Remus flushes and quickly takes his hand back. "Longer than _you_ can," he says, and Sirius is just about to respond when light floods the closet and they jump away from each other.

Remus has to wait before his eyes adjust to the light, and when his vision clears, he sees Sirius doing the same and James looking at them expectantly.

"Where's Lily?" Remus asks.

"You brought _her_ into this?" Sirius accuses. "Where is your _mind_, Potter?"

"In that closet, hiding under the giant dust bunnies and Sirius'--" Peter cuts in from where he's leaning against the opposite wall.

"Do _not_ finish that sentence, Wormtail," Sirius says icily, and Remus cannot help but admire the way his cheeks are flushed and his eyes bright as he tries not to laugh. "And I am going to find myself a nice girl, and you wankers can quit making things up about people. That means Evans too, Prongs. Try not to think _too_ dirty."

Remus ignores the flickering unease in the bottom of his stomach and follows Sirius, allowing him, once they are out of sight of James and Peter, to push him against the wall and attack him with his mouth, laughter bubbling through their attached lips.

--

James bursts out laughing when they disappear around the corner.

"They're a riot, they are," he says.

Peter is looking at the Map with a look of mild disgust on his face. "They're snogging," he says, wrinkling his nose. "Is it just me, or is that painfully disturbing?"

"What, 'cause they're two blokes?" James' look holds a tinge of challenge.

"No. Because they're _Padfoot_ and _Moony_."

"Yes. You have a point there, Wormtail." James looks thoughtful for a moment. "Still funny, though, that they think they got us. They had no idea we could hear everything."

"Yeah, well, you may have to fill me in. I plugged my ears when they started _moaning_."

* * *

_(And why James' hair is lying flat is a completely different story.)_


	6. But Now Nothing Can Be the Same

Remus sits with his head on his knees. He can feel his breath coming shortly, moisture condensing on his skin. He bites his hand. His eyes flutter closed.

Sirius sits legs splayed but tense, only staring. His back rests against the foot of his bed. His feet are inches from Remus'. He doesn't think about his breath. _I'm in love with you_. It sounds so stupid, now, when it's hanging in the air between them. How stupid. What a stupid thing to say.

Remus keeps breathing. He figures nothing else can happen if he never stops.

Sirius starts, "I didn't want this to happen."

Remus thinks, _I know I know I know_ but now nothing can change.

Sirius says, "It's funny how much things can turn to shit just because I decide to open my mouth."

Remus lets out a longer breath, whispers, "Don't blame yourself."

Sirius laughs. It sounds absurdly right for a moment that's so wrong, but that's just because Remus doesn't know what else to think and when Sirius laughs, he laughs gloriously. "Typical Moony," he says in what could be an angry voice but is really only sad. "Typical."

Remus does not ask what that means. He does not _want_ to know what Sirius thinks of when he thinks of him. He opens his eyes and stares at the dim, blurry pattern of his blanket.

Sirius says, "Can't you just say something?" Which he knows isn't a good idea because he's already made a big mistake, a huge mistake, and he's making it worse, but he's waited _so long_ for this and now it's all falling apart and he keeps grasping at any tattered strand of hope.

Now it's Remus' turn to laugh. But it's short and not nearly as beautiful as Sirius'. "Like what? What could I possibly say?"

Sirius shakes his head and sighs. "Well, at least it's not awkward."

"Ha. Well, there's a plus," Remus snaps sarcastically, and immediately regrets it. _It's not his fault,_ he keeps reminding himself. _Not his fault_. It will become a sort of mantra. Not angry. And he's not really surprised - he's not angry at Sirius at all.

Sirius wishes Remus would look up so he could see his eyes. He thinks all the answers are there (even though he knows the one he wants isn't), and all the answers Remus could say but doesn't. Won't and never will, he tells himself. Never will. _Deal with it._ Just another thing to harden himself to. He always wished he had a family, he always wished he had a family that wasn't evil. What would it be like if my mother hugged me? He wonders sometimes, with that wistful sad tinge, and now Remus is turning into the same sort of thing, and he wants to scream and stop it from happening but it marches on.

Remus just wants to curl up into a ball and hide. He doesn't deserve this, he knows, with _this_ being wonderful, absolutely wonderful, but he can't, because he doesn't deserve something this good. He doesn't deserve Sirius - no way in _hell_.

Sirius thinks otherwise.

But Remus doesn't want to know what Sirius thinks of when he thinks of him. It makes him sick. It makes him want to bury his face in blankets and pillows and never look up.

Sirius says, "You don't believe me."

"I don't know," Remus says, and it feels good to tell the truth. He wishes he could tell Sirius a truth that doesn't hurt him.

"Moony," he whispers, and Remus sees. "How can you not see? Don't you see James, in me?"

"No," Remus says bluntly. "I don't."

"I mean, not - " Sirius shakes his head. His eyes are animated again, with the prospect of a misunderstanding to clear. A second without thinking about what's happening.

Remus aches. He wishes so much that he could make him smile.

"Look, I - What I mean to say, Moony - that's not what I meant."

Remus doesn't speak. He wants Sirius to talk until he falls asleep, or they both die, or James comes in, or Peter makes them laugh and look away. He wants Sirius to talk and talk. He wants his voice to wash over him and his words to drown him. He wants his words to roll over him, calm him, make him sigh and dream and content.

"Look, Moony. I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

_Anything you want_, Remus thinks. He only nods weakly. His stomach rolls. His head is heavy.

"Unless you want to...?" Sirius is trying so hard and Remus just sits there and he thinks even more how he doesn't deserve this but he can't make his mouth move, because he's terrified to say anything even though he knows saying nothing is worse. He knows it's not true, logically, but he can't stop himself from thinking. And then it loops around in a vicious circle of not deserving, wanting, not deserving, wanting so badly. He can't even speak. He can't even say anything that would stop Sirius' eyes from flickering that awful way. He doesn't understand.

So he puts on a smile and runs his fingers through his hair and wipes moisture from his hands to the blankets. He swallows and looks up and meets Sirius' eyes. "You make it sound like you just announced someone's death," he says almost cheerfully.

"Maybe not someone, but something - our friendship? Did I ruin everything, Moony?" Sirius' voice is soft and childlike. Remus can imagine what his eyes look like.

He hates himself. How can he take such a beautiful person as Sirius and reduce him to this? How can he do it? His smile falters and Sirius' grows.

"Of course not," he says. But he doesn't see how it couldn't happen like that. They will never be the same, will they? Remus tries to ask. "But."

"But?" Sirius asks fearfully.

Remus just sighs. "But - but how not, Padfoot? How can you just expect me to act like - like everything's normal? How could - "

"But it is," Sirius interrupts. "It's perfectly normal. It's always been like this, Moony. You just haven't known."

Remus sighs and gets to his feet, paces. He feels like if he tried to touch anything it would almost dissolve under his fingertips, because it isn't really there. He feels like Sirius isn't really there, which would make everything so much easier, _so much easier_, but logic says that Sirius is there loud and clear.

Sirius feels like asking for one chance, just let me kiss you once and just see, just don't think, look, I'm Sirius Black, look, Moony -

But it's Moony. It's Remus. And to Remus, he's just Sirius.

After all, how would he like to kiss James?

He almost gags, not at that thought but of what it means. Nothing. It means that nothing is there. No chance in _hell_.

He feels sick. He wants to lie down and go to sleep and dream about something that isn't real.

But dreams are more than real.

Suddenly there are arms around him, arms he aches to touch. But he doesn't move because he knows that if he does it will be much, _much_ more than Remus wants. But how can he just sit frozen as his arms encircle him and ask so strongly for him to hug him back?

So he responds fiercely - too fiercely, he knows. His fingers clutch at Remus' robes and he buries his face in his shoulder, breathing, breathing. He feels remarkably stupid as tears pool in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Remus." He murmurs into in shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm such a prat. _Fuck_. I'm such an _idiot_."

Remus doesn't respond. Sirius supposes there's nothing you can say to something like that.

He feels his blood rush in his ears. Pound through his heart, race through his body, cloud his mind. Dazed.

He pulls away slightly, his eyelids heavy. He gazes at Remus' lips because he's not thinking. And as he leans in he knows he screams at himself to stop because he's ruining everything more and more and _more_ and what is he _doing_?

He kisses him, just like that, it's so easy, and blood rushes and he knows he _knows_ this is stupid because he's going to _dream_ about this later and it's going to kill him. He's going to dream about soft lips and hesitant fingers and imaginary want and it's going to _kill_ him. Because now that he actually knows what it fells like it's going to _kill_ him and he's going to have a slow and torturous death.

But now it's worth it. For this second, he wants it to be worth it.

Remus' fingers on his cheeks, pressing him away.

Sirius closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at him. He knows it's cowardly, but he feels hot shame flood his cheeks and he can't look. "Fuck," he mutters. He needs to say more, so Remus knows, but can't pull enough words together.

So he _knows_. But what is there to know?

There's a question he'd like. A question Moony'd like to hear in the flickering light of the common room fire that illuminated the shadows in his face and he liked to think of things that he could never figure out if the answers even matter.

"Sorry - sorry. Padfoot."

"Don't." Sirius' tone is unintentionally acidic.

Remus walks backwards out of the room and he is waiting, he is searching for something to say that will fix it, waiting with open palms and waiting lips, waiting for words.

Sirius aches.

Remus leaves.


End file.
